


Te Quiero

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-11
Updated: 2009-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:43:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaoru and Kyo have been together for two years. There's a fire that burns in the blonde that he's unsure if Kaoru even feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Te Quiero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gc_chelsea](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=gc_chelsea).



> Prompt: 050: Sweethearts for y!weekly. Due Feb 19th.  
> Comments: Requested off jrock_ffrequest, written for gc_chelsea.  
> They love each other but did not have a physical aspect of their relationship to begin with. As in... they were dating but no sex, then they have sex at some point. Kyo as a needy, submissive bottom. Whoever can top.  
> Song[s]: "You'll be my Future" by Katalina

Kyo POV

I still remember the first moments of our relationship as if it happened just yesterday. There's almost two years between now and then, and yet... it's nothing. Those first moments, the ones in which I finally gave in and handed you a piece of myself. It was a chance, a huge one. You could have thrown my heart back in my face and told me to leave. But you didn't. Instead, your eyes burned with something so achingly beautiful that I couldn't even move a muscle.

It was a huge step for me - to admit that I cared. Sometimes, when I'm home alone at night, I regret telling you. But in those moments, I have to remember my place, remember who I am versus who you are. You may be my very first love, but I'm not yours. I'm not even sure the hope that I'll be your last love is founded on anything except the dreams in my mind. It hurts sometimes... to think that you could easily move on without me and leave me behind like dust on a shelf - lonely and forgotten.

But you never look like you want to move on. You never say you don't love me. But then, in all this time, you've never said you loved me in return, either. Even as I sit here on the tour bus, staring out the window at the darkness outside, I feel empty inside. You're just across the isle and I still feel hollow. To some that would make no sense. Sometimes it doesn't to me either. I have you. For that, I should be satisfied. And yet, I'm not.

I hurt for you, for your presence in my arms, your heat in my bed, and your lips on my skin. I burn with the desire to have something more than we already do. Each night, when I go to bed and lay there shaking from the cold, a fire I can't put out burning low in my abdomen, I think of you.

These are my regrets. I told you once that I wasn't ready. Back when we first started out, you wanted to move with a pace I couldn't handle. I was unsure, unwilling to accept how it was all going to happen. Back then, I was childish and stupid to think that a man like you would allow me to guide our relationship in those ways. The months passed by and I began to realize where I had been mistaken, where I had gone wrong. I tried then to make it right, to show you I was ready and that I had no problems with it being the way you wanted it to be. But you didn't see it like that. You never did, I suppose. And maybe you never will.

I lean against the cool glass of the window, my breath fogging it ever so slightly. I paint your name in the moisture, the kanji so perfect and beautiful - Kaoru, it says. To me, it speaks volumes more than just your name. The symbol is full of your strength and presence, just as my own cries out of my weakness, of my undying devotion and of the terrible darkness that resides within me.

I miss you and you're just right there, right across the aisle from me. My chest throbs almost painfully on the inside and my eyes slip shut in an attempt to hide how much agony I'm really in. I love you and I want to show you so badly just how much I do. But I know it's no longer my place to do that. Some part of me wonders where you find your comfort, where you sate your needs. I never see you slip away on your own or even with anyone else. I'm not fool enough to think that the long smoke breaks you and Die have together are anything but that. Die's just not like that and I'd hate to think you would be either. Maybe you're in as much agony as I am and I simply cannot see it.

Somehow, that thought doesn't make it any easier for me. I still need you like I've never needed anything else in my life. It just leaves me wondering why this is harder than confessing my love to you in the first place. The thought echoes hollowly in my heat and I realize for the first time that without the physical contact, I feel like our love is fading away into nothingness. I... I need you. I need you to hold me close, if nothing else. I need those strong tattooed arms around me, holding me close and your deep voice telling me that I matter to you.

The bus stops and I crack my eyes open, looking out over the parking lot of a hotel. We're all so tired, weary from the road and from the concerts one after another. I don't look away from the outside, even when I hear you leaving the bus. I suppose by now, you're used to my funks, thinking I'm just brooding again like always. And so you ignore it. You've learned... and maybe I've taught you too well. Tonight... tonight I need you. And yet, tonight, you ignore me. A small piece of me breaks away and I know I've only done this to myself. I showed you the path to follow with me and you're only taking it as you promised you would. But can't you see? Can't you see that I hurt in a whole other way this time?

A hand drops on my shoulder and I look up into deep brown eyes, full of concern and something close to confusion. My own hand covers Die's, gently squeezing before I pull myself from my seat and accept the bag he hands me. But when I turn to leave, he holds me back, his hand still not letting me go.

"What's wrong?'" There's something almost sad in his voice... like he already understands.

I shake my head. "Nothing you can solve." I know it's harsh, but it's only the truth. He is not my lover and he's sure as hell not Kaoru. I'm the only one who can solve this and I'll be the first to admit it.

His hand slips from my shoulder and I move away, walking down the aisle and off the bus, heading for the lobby of the small building. I'm stopped by our tour manager, who hands me a room key and tells me where to go. I take it and move away, my steps careful and measured, even as I want to flee for my room.

Once I'm inside the small hotel room, I'm left standing at the foot of my bed, staring at the blank white as if it holds the answer to my every question. My bag's on the floor and my heart feels emptier than it did a few minutes ago. Maybe... maybe this is why you once told me that perhaps this was not the best of ideas. What good is the vocalist of the band when he cannot even find hope in his personal life? There's a depth of truth in that that hurts me to my very core.

With an aching slowness, I pull off my clothes and move to the shower, turning the faucets on hotter than necessary and stepping under the scalding spray. I feel as if I'm washing away the sins from my thoughts. My hands press against the wall and the water runs over my body, flushing my skin to pink. The semblance of a newborn child. If only I could actually shed my sinful thoughts in this manner. But then I would be nothing. Worthless in the worst kind of way. Even that thought hurts me.

Head bowed, I take up the washrag and open the small packet containing the hotel soap. The grain of the towel feels harsh on my skin, as if it's peeling it away with every movement. The feeling reminds me of all the things I've done to myself over the years to empty the pain from within. I know there's one way that would surely work, that would be like heaven itself delivered into my lap. And yet... I cannot have it. I deprived myself of it so long ago.

The water rinses away the soap as my fingers work the shampoo through my hair. I wish it were you doing this to me. More thoughts follow, the ache of need rising inside me until my skin is flushed for an entirely different reason. I ache in so many ways all at once. What a tormented soul I have become. The shampoo slips from my hair as the water falls heavily on it, taking it away. I want you to take me away. But you are not here and probably never will be.

I try not to give it a second thought, try to focus on shutting off the water and drying my overly-sensitive skin with the too-rough towel. But even as I do, I know the thought will not leave me be. Tonight will end just as every other night does. With me alone, easing this ache in the dead of the night when I can no longer stand it, my mind pretending as best it can.

I'm halfway through dressing, my sweatpants pulled on and my t-shirt in hand, when there's a knock at my door. A sigh leaves my lips before I can catch it. I just know it'll be Die, worrying about me even though it's Valentine's Day and he should be worrying over his current fling. I don't even look out the peephole, just simply open the door a crack and peer out. My breath sticks in my throat. It's not Die. Rather, it's you. My eyes flick over your body. You've obviously showered, but you're dressed in nice slacks and a button-down shirt, your hands behind your back and a smile on your lips.

I swallow hard and pull the door open, clutching my t-shirt in front of myself to hide the way my body is currently feeling. "Kaoru," I murmur softly as you slip into the room and I push the door closed behind you. When I turn around, you're there, facing me, your eyes shining with warmth. I wish I could share that warmth with you. But I already know where I'm not welcome and where I am. I close my eyes for a moment to center myself, taking a deep breath and letting it out nice and slow. When I look back at you, I manage to put a small smile on my face, no matter how fake it truly is. "What's the occasion?" At least the words aren't filled with the biting sarcasm I feel that they should be.

You show me your hand then, holding out a small box to me. "It's Valentine's Day."

I eye you like you've lost your ever-loving mind, but I take it anyway, staring down at it, t-shirt still hanging from my other hand, covering myself. Part of me wants to snap at you and tell you it's actually Valentine's _night_ at this point. The other part is the bit causing my heart to pound in my chest. You actually thought of me on such a day. At least I mean that much to you, even if nothing more. I walk with the box to the bed and sit, leaving my t-shirt in my lap so I can take the box with both hands.

You sit next to me, one hand coming to rest on my thigh, your thumb gently caressing. Just the movement, the fact that your heat is seeping into my body is enough to have my hands trembling as I unwrap the silver paper and reveal the red box beneath. I glance at you, unsure for a moment, realizing I got you nothing and now I feel stupid. But I figured you'd think it pointless and only chastise me for spending my money when I should be saving it away. At least that's what you did last Christmas.

There's a lump in my throat that I can't seem to get past as you take the paper and put it aside. My hands shake as I remove the box top and reveal the most beautiful necklace. The blue stone lies in sharp contrast to the silver of the setting and the chain. Licking my lips, I reach for it. But you beat me to it, taking the box away and removing the pendant, unfastening the clasp and reaching out to place it around my neck.

You're so close. The fabric of your shirt brushes against me and I gasp softly. I let the box go, letting it tumble to the floor as I reach for you, my arms enfolding you in them, pulling you close as you let the chain go, the pendant settling heavily on my chest. You don't resist me, simply holding me as I hold you. My heart is going a million miles an hour and I can't stand it anymore. You're right here, so close, and I need you so bad. My lips find your tattoo, brushing over the skin of your neck ever so gently as I turn, tugging you over me.

When you pull back, hovering over me to stare down at me, I look back up at you, the look in my eyes surely one of such vulnerability that you cannot miss it. I want you, but I no longer know how to ask. Instead, I use my body to let you know - my hands skimming down your sides, an unrivaled heat in my eyes, and my hips pressing up, showing you my arousal. A tiny sound of pleasure escapes my throat and I shudder with the intensity of the motion.

You study me for a moment, your eyes roaming my face, searching for something. Whatever it is, you must find it, because in the next moment, your lips are pressed against my own, your tongue tasting me in a way you haven't since that night I regret with my entire being. I fist my hands in your shirt, pulling you closer, spreading my thighs and hooking one leg behind yours, bringing you closer. I kiss you back with an intensity I'm sure you've never felt before, my entire being radiating the pure desire that I feel for you. My hips buck up against yours, having a mind of their own.

You groan softly into the kiss, pulling back for just a moment to pull my t-shirt from between us and then coming right back as if you'd never stopped. Your hips meet with mine, your body surging forward, the press of your length against me ensuring me that I'm not the only one who wants this. When you end the kiss, I lay there, breathless and flushed, my nerves tingling as I gaze up at you, a plea in my eyes that I never thought they'd ever hold.

The first two buttons of your shirt have come undone sometime during all of this and my eyes can't help but wander there, trailing over the exposed skin; the skin I long to see more of. I reach for your shirt, my fingers deftly undoing the other buttons, each shining silver button slipping through black fabric and revealing more creamy white skin. It falls from your shoulders and you shrug it the rest of the way off, letting it fall to the floor as my eyes take in your newest tattoos - the ones even my own eyes had yet to see. I lick my lips, wetting them before I lean up, allowing them to caress your skin, to worship it the way I have always wanted.

You surprise me when you slip your hand down between us, massaging my ache through my pants. I arch into your touch, sounds of pleasure falling from my lips into the otherwise quiet room as I cling to you. I need you. The moment your hand slips inside my pants, I know I'm gone. My breath pants out as my hips push needily against you. And just like that I find my voice, find the words to beg you in the most base of ways. "Please... Kao... I..." another moan cuts me off, your hand squeezing and pumping along my length, "make love to me." The final words tumble from my lips and I feel no regrets in saying them. It is what I want and what I need.

When you stop moving, I worry that I've gone too far, that I've asked too much. My cheeks flush in shame and I turn my head to the side, letting my hands fall from you. I shouldn't have. A mistake. But then your lips are on my neck, the warmth of their caress filling me. "Do you have what we need?" Your voice is even lower than usual, filled with obvious need and arousal and it warms my heart and burns my blood. But the meaning of your words sinks in and I realize I don't. I never expected this. Two years taught me not to and I simply stopped carrying what we'd need. I shake my head, ashamed that I don't.

You make a soft sound against my neck and then sigh. "Then... I'll make a promise to do so another time." I hear the regret in the words, the need burning in them so clearly and I know now I've been the fool. I never made myself clear, I never told you what I truly wanted... what I needed. But now I have you and that's all that matters. My hands make their way to your slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping them, pushing them out of the way, right along with your boxer briefs. The first moment that I touch your arousal, the warmth and weight of it in my palm, burns itself into my memory and I know this will be what I remember forever now. I push my hips up into your hand, begging without words for what I need.

Taking the hint, you slowly begin to stroke me, matching my pace on your length, your breath rasping in my ear as you curl yourself around my smaller body. Almost as one, our hips surge, our need mounting so quickly. My free arm holds you close to me, my fingers splayed over your back as my hips buck wantonly. Sounds I don't even recognize fall from my lips, growing with intensity as your moans join in. You're trembling and I know you're just as close as I am, your body just as needy as my own. Two more tugs and my hips snap up, the first wave of my orgasm slamming into me with enough intensity to make me stop breathing. The second leaves me drowning and I can't even think anymore, my hand moving over you faster, trying to draw you with me. And then you're pulsing in my fist, your low groan in my ear as the warmth of your release splashes over my abdomen.

We don't stop until we're both empty. Only then do we let one another go, instead wrapping our arms around one another, lips meeting in a kiss filled with more love than lust. When you draw back for breath, I'm left staring up at you, my eyes glittering with pleasure. I don't feel alone. I don't feel empty. My hand comes to cup your cheek and I give you a genuine smile, the first since this all began. "I love you." It's sappy, it's romantic... and hell, you deserve to know.

Your smile mirrors my own, your eyes dark as you study me before you duck your head and lick at my earlobe. "And I love you." The words are spoken so low, whispered into my ear. But I know you mean them with the utmost sincerity and that warms me to the very core. I hold you close and I can only pray that this is how we'll remain for as long as we can. I'm not naive. I don't expect forever. But while it lasts... my heart will burn strong.

**The End**  



End file.
